Unintentional
by CLEMENTINE QUEEN
Summary: He is known to be a god in the shinobi world who wields crimson eyes and a deadly name. She is a young girl who is new to the ways of war and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't fate that brought them together, nor are they meant for each other. Though their love is passionate, dangerous and anything but innocent; it is true. MadaMito. Rated M!
1. Chapter 1

Unintentional

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_He is known to be a god in the shinobi world who wields crimson eyes and a deadly name. She is a young girl who is new to the ways of war and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he learns her truth, he is determined to get revenge on his bitter rival using her as his hostage. It wasn't fate that brought them together, nor are they meant for each other. Though their love is passionate, dangerous and anything but innocent; it is true. MadaMito. Rated M for a reason!_

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"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead."

Quote by Oscar Wilde

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**MITO**

Some would have called the day unfortunate; filled with sorrow and misery. The clouds had been floating heavy for a few hours now, it was about time they yielded. The slate-grey sky had begun to cry as it poured itself out onto the ground as it had been carrying around it's fill of rain water the entire day. But as unusual as it may have been for a girl to enjoy rain showers and thunder storms, Mito had always felt that particular way about them. When it rained, the day always felt fresh and it hinted at new starts and better horizons.

Because she knew that when it rained, a rainbow would always form. The rainbow wasn't the best part about it though. It was the feeling of pureness pouring onto her skin, rattling her bones and shaking her core, leaving it in a good way. When she was being rained on, she loved the faint smell of salt and the wisps of a dewy morning, if morning ever had a scent. So while she travelled through the rain, she did nothing but smile as it changed from a gentle rhythm to a beat that was hard to keep up with, and an unexplainable feeling.

"Mito-chan!" a feminine voice called out to her. It was coming from the carriage. It was that all-too familiar voice of her older sister. There was no mistaking it; that tone that sounded like a mixture between a seven year old boy and their own mother. Even though Mito was the youngest, she often teased her older sibling about it. Saimei used to cry to their mother about it all the time, but Mito never truly meant any harm, she couldn't exactly help it. If Mito had really wanted to tease her sister about it, all she would have to do is pinch Saimei to make her cry. Now that tone was really something.

She turned her head slightly, acknowledging that her sister was speaking to her. But the way she flipped her head sideways, along with her now-soaking wet, red hair. Well, it made it seem like she was trying to be rude. No, that was never Mito's intention. She had never gone as far as to have cruelness towards her siblings, even though she definitely came off that way with her blunt-attitude and her all too-good honesty.

"Kaa-san wants you to come inside the carriage!" Saimei was trying to _sound_ like her mother now. Mito always noticed her using a different tone of voice for every person she spoke to. Though it would always have that touch that always made Mito laugh about it, no matter how hard Saimei tried to conceal it.

Mito turned her head back around to face the open road, ignoring what her sister said. She was more than capable enough to walk on her own two feet instead of being hauled around by the horses like the majority of her family. It was too rainy out and the path was beaten up, it wasn't as if they could go any faster if she was to be inside the carriage with them. Mito hated being put in a tight space for so long with her family, she liked the sweet, tender outdoors air. She loved the feel of nature, but to sit in a carriage with body heat listening to the same old stories…? It wasn't what she was good at.

That goes to say that Uzumaki Mito wasn't exactly what her parents had wanted her to be, anyways. Though they usually didn't have to pay any mind to her, anyways; they had three sons and another daughter, they could be content all they like. Mito was the youngest and the least spoiled out of all of them. She was always branded the black sheep of the family, which always made her feel a little uncertain and caused her to be more rebellious than the others. Her mother always presented Mito as her "other daughter," which made Mito all the more prone to her little outbursts.

When Saimei recognized that Mito didn't care what her mother wanted, she sighed and slid the window shut, knowing that it was pointless to argue with the stubborn Mito. But still, for her mother to want her to come into the carriage was an odd thing; her family usually let her do what she wanted because they didn't feel like an argument. The Uzumaki wife didn't care about ruined kimonos or loose hair anymore because she knew that it was futile when concerning Mito.

Perhaps it had something to do with where they were going. It was only the main branch that was traveling, and it seemed like Mito was the only one who didn't have any sight on what location they were headed to or even what road they were taking. Mito had never taken this road before; in fact she had never been across seas before until now. It was only the main branch of the Uzumaki clan and their guard that was traveling, too. For matters not to concern her father's siblings was unusual, but Mito put thoughts in the back of her mind and focused on walking.

Thankfully, Mito had on a simple kimono that her mother had picked out for her. It was only simple, unlike most of the things she had stuffed in her wardrobes. Those other things included a variety of silk kimonos and even seven-layered kimonos that only feudal lord's wives wear. They all tried to pamper her and make it look like Mito was just another woman who wanted to be pretty and wanted, though Mito hadn't even tried on half of the bloody fabrics in her wardrobe.

As the rain kept slowing down a little over three hours later, Mito found that her calves were getting sore, and she blamed it on anything but herself. Her scapegoat was travel itself. Today it was the tight skirts of the kimono that she wore. She cursed it and when she hopped back into the carriage with everyone looking at her, trying not to laugh, she rolled her eyes and took up an empty spot beside her father and Uzumaki clan leader, Sujin.

Though Mito knew that each and every one of her siblings- and parents- wanted to chuckle at her for walking out in the rain for hours and getting soaking wet, they didn't say anything. Mito was grateful for that, as she didn't need any of her siblings' input. Instead she just folded her arms and rested her head against the softened wood of the carriage. She looked at the world of consciousness one last time before her head slightly bobbed and her eyes drooped. The girl was fast asleep.

The young Uzumaki girl awoke to the sounds of shuffling, and when she opened her eyes the lot of the family was leaving the coach, taking their carry-on bags with them. A few seconds after the last of the members left, she stretched her arms and walked down the carriage and looked at the building that the carriage had stopped at. The Uzumaki clan was walking into a building that was labeled "INN" and was so ordinary that it was so unlike her family. Immediately, Mito smiled, and for that reason she didn't know.

Once inside of the foyer, Mito had to have a look around. Her family were a generous and kind to others and their allies, yes. But on the inside of the Uzumaki family was importance of keeping the family name and making sure that it didn't get stepped all over. Her grandfather would have been furious to learn that his eldest son, his daughter-in-law and their children were staying at some mediocre inn on the way to their destination. If he were alive to see it, that is.

"Uzumaki-sama," the inn owner bowed to her father and showed the seven of them up the sturdy steps and into a four-room suite. They would all be pairing up, but there was an extra room which meant Uzumaki Sujin had meant for a meeting for the family. It was the biggest in the inn and all the inn keep could manage for such an unexpected party. But nonetheless, the lady seemed honored to present the clan with room and board.

Before Mito could even walk into her own room, her father had called them all over. The siblings had arranged themselves in their fitted positions. Her father in front of them all and her mother, Junko a little to the side with the Uzumaki children placed in front of them from oldest to youngest. Iseya was first, sitting like the noble son he was. Followed by Nagata who was very quiet and reserved, then Saimei looking pretty and postured, next was Satoi who seemed to be daydreaming. She sat beside Satoi with bored eyes.

Junko bit her plump bottom lip, causing a smooth but small trail of blood to drip down into the crease of her mouth. Mito could tell she was nervous about something, and that something she couldn't place exactly. She also sat there twiddling her thumbs, which wasn't a very common habit for her to do. Usually she sat much like Saimei; or rather Saimei had adapted her positions and styles from Junko. There was something that they were all hiding and it bugged Mito more than she liked.

The clan guard came into the room as well, shortly after and took their positions sitting as far back as the room allowed. But they still managed to end up close to them since there were about thirty of them, all to protect their more-than-capable Uzumaki clan. They looked uncomfortable in their spots once they did sit down. They stared directly at their clan leader and looked like carved statues made from stone.

"We all know the reason why this meeting had to happen." Sujin slightly nodded at the guard and then to the main family, accepting their presence in the room. The man was stern with glossy rouge hair that reached to his shoulder blades. His forehead was absent with bangs, but he made up for it by the slightly large beard. He looked much older than his forty-two years; he looked more like a sixty year-old man and the thought itself almost made Mito burst into laughter.

"Yes, Tou-sama," Iseya seemed to speak for everyone except Mito. "Of course." Iseya was always the over-achiever. The best with the sealing jutsu, the best at lasting impressions and he was truly cut out to carry on as clan leader once their father was nicely withered away in the dirt. He had taken on a lot of responsibility and didn't mind showing off his power to the rest of the siblings. Sure, Iseya had plenty of honor and wasn't a fool for glory, but all in all he was always the dependant type.

Mito rolled her eyes, and when she looked back up to her father, her mother was in the background mouthing words, obviously giving her trouble. Everyone was forbidden to make fools of themselves or do anything that was caused any emotion out of anyone in the room. No japes, no obscure gestures; it was only listen and speak when spoken to; but as usual her father's rules didn't stop her from letting out a yawn that she couldn't contain.

The redhead almost choked on her saliva when her father looked directly at her. "This is in regards to you, so it would be in your best interest to hear what I have to say." that only made Mito want to ignore them all the more. As Mito assumed, the meeting was probably to discuss her recent unruly behavior. Well- not exactly recent, but lately it seemed to Mito that she was being a little too annoying for the likes of her family. Or at least that was what she thought.

"I'm sure whatever scolding you're about to bring upon me can wait until morning, Tou-sama." in response, her father's pale skin had now turned a fathomable shade of pink, if he were to turn anymore red; it would match the milky-redness of his hair. It was obvious that her father wasn't pleased with her, but Mito couldn't exactly recall a situation that would make them so angry as to call the entire clan to discuss the matters. The issue would usually be sorted out the old fashioned way, by tying Mito to a wooden post for a few hours.

"Mind your tongue, Mito." her eldest brother glared at her with chestnut brown eyes, and the eyes themselves were reprimanding her. Iseya didn't even have to remind Mito of her disrespectful words, his glossy brown eyes did just that. All of the Uzumaki's eyes had that similar trait, the honest, molten eyes that spoke for them and did the bidding.

It took a moment for everyone to regain themselves, for everyone to straighten out and be reminded that clan meetings call for high respects and folly wasn't tolerated. Even Mito decided that she would rather get the damned thing over with and listen to her family's words, words that currently everybody knew except for herself that is. Sujin, her father, found his composure once again and his rosy cheeks that were previously filled with frustration; died down. His face was pale and hard again, like steel.

"This is with great political reasons, and this gathering wouldn't have happened otherwise," her father took out a scroll from the folds of his well-kept hakama and opened it slightly, glancing over the fine words that were written there. "Instead of a scolding, Mito, I bring you a contract. You may have thought that you were called so that we could teach you a lesson, but that assumption is wrong in every respect."

Said child bit her tongue, refraining from anything else coming out of her mouth. The way she looked now, with her mouth shut and her pose held straight, made her look like the very definition of beauty and purity. To others, she would have looked like a porcelain doll without anything but innocence, she looked so strong and fragile all at the same time. But as per usual, in regards to this façade that she accidentally put on, the dream was smothered moments later, which made it apparent that there was no hope for her.

The young redhead wanted to question this certain contract. It was meant for her, as her father clearly said, but what was it? Surely her family wouldn't go as far as selling her to a slaver, or giving her up to a family that needed hard work out of her. Even though Mito tried to look for a better and certainly more pessimistic view on what the contract would be- she forced herself to swallow as if there was a lump at the base of her throat.

Her father unraveled more of this scroll he was holding, and once he was satisfied with its position, he turned it around so that everyone in the family would be able to read it. It was a big school, not exactly huge, but it was larger than the average scroll. Though the size of the scroll wasn't the problem, it was the giant letters in the center of it that caused Mito to gasp.

There was a variety of writings on the scroll that her father was holding up. Two names at the top of one huge word and below that very small fine print and at the bottom two different sets of signatures. The lettering that stood out to Mito in bold lettering was 結婚. Marriage. A commitment. It was written between this Senju Hashirama and herself. The redhead wasn't a boob, and even at sixteen years old she knew what that meant. It meant that the entirety of the young girls' life was meant for this one moment.

Mito, at this very moment, realized that she was nothing more than an object to be sold. She was a means of truce and peace between some other clan and that stung her greatly. The girl always knew that those born into the warring clans always had to sacrifice their daughters and sisters to other clan's in order for tranquility to happen. It just so happens that being born into the famous Uzushiogakure's Uzumaki clan meant the same thing.

She had always thought that her clan was different from all the rest. Compared to others, her clan was genuine and friendly yet powerful and respected all at the same time. Even though somewhere deep inside her she knew that one of her siblings would get the short stick and have to do something outrageously generous for the clan, which meant either going to war or being sold; it's just that Mito had never thought it to be her.

Saimei was always the one preparing for this kind of thing. She was pretty; she talked with manners and had always fantasized about being married to some heir of a great clan. The girl had more clothes than anyone she had ever known, she was young and able. Yet there she sat, her name was still Uzumaki and nobody had given her any reason to be given away. It truthfully made Mito all the more mad, even though she always forbade herself from being jealous of Saimei.

"I'm the least favorite of your children, I know this." Mito hid the muffling of her voice in a voice that could rival even the bravest kunoichi. "But how could you put this duty upon me? How could you choose me for this fate instead of Saimei who has wanted this since she was a girl? If you want me to leave, I will do so, I just don't underst-" In the middle of her words, she was interrupted. Not by her father, nor her mother, not even her brother. But her sister.

"You don't understand, that's the problem, Mito-chan." Saimei whispered. Her voice was frail as if she had no true conception of the world around her. Her sister sounded timid and afraid, which was very out of character for her as Saimei was driven on confidence and tended to think of herself as being the perfect image of what a young kunoichi should look like.

"You _never_ understand, even when I try telling you things. I have spent my life trying to outdo you in every way possible. It never works. I have realized this long ago that you are far superior to me. But you still don't get it. You were chosen and it is a great honor and will bring good fortune upon our clan and family, yet you sit there complaining as if making fun of me." Saimei started to cry, and it was the first time Mito had ever seen her do such a thing with true, meaningful reason. Those tears were an accident.

Once the girl broke into a quiet sob, her father looked at her with those Uzumaki eyes that Mito knew meant disappointment. "You're not our least favorite child, Mito. You are wrong in every way to think so, put those thoughts to rest because they are untrue. We thought this would make you happy. You're to be married to Senju Hashirama, a very fine shinobi, and the clan has asked for you personally." And Sujin looked calmer and much more considerate than he did before. It seemed Saimei's tears drove a weakness from him.

"You are wrong to think that this arrangement would make me happy, Senju or not." Mito looked to her crying sister, and before now she had felt sadness for the oldest Uzumaki daughter, but now all she sees are lies and deceit. They had hidden this from her for who knows how long, and once Mito found that recognition, she instantly knew the reason they were travelling so far. Her family was delivering her right to the clan.

"I have never asked anything of you, not like they do." Mito pointed to her siblings. "I've always been least dependant than the likes of these four, and yet you still find a way to punish me. If it's for my past mistakes, I apologize. But you insist on putting me through hell because it will bring _good fortune_ upon our clan?" Mito stood up from her place at the meeting, which would be considered quite offensive. "Look to your idiot of a son, Iseya or your pitiful rat of a daughter, Saimei. They can bring you better fortune than I ever could."

Uzumaki Junko, her mother, finally jumped in to say something. "Mito, if you think this marriage will be annulled, then you are only kidding yourself. At this very moment you are in a betrothal and it would go against our Ancestors if you were to do anything to break that oath." Mito knew how it went. Her father along with the Senju clan leader had sworn the vow to their worshiped Ancestors that were acting as gods. It was all troublesome.

Before Mito walked out of the room, she looked towards the whole of the family. "I despise this arrangement with all my heart, but I am not as lowly as you all seem to think I am. I'll proceed if that means not having to deal with you people for the rest of my life." The redhead slid the door open to their sleeping compounds and shut it back again, causing it to slam. Nobody dared to follow the fiery girl now.

Burning with raw anger, the redhead exited the inn as fast as she possibly could without running. She had sped down the steps and out the door, and the inn keep looked at her like she was some monster rampaging about, but lacked to say anything to her. Mito walked off the porch and feasted her eyes on the crescent-shaped moon glow and the tiny specks of stars that looked like dust scattered into the darkened sky.

The crickets were singing a tune in their usual harmonic, optimistic tunes. She could also hear the faint sounds of the midnight toads, meanwhile smelling the cool midnight air. She envied all these animals that seemed to live to the best of their abilities. They didn't have to go through arranged marriages and keep oaths sacred. They did what they want when they wanted, and they made beautiful sounds while doing so.

It was ironic how the nature of the simplest things like birds and bees were so… peaceful compared to those of human morals. Though there are predators, and there are preys, only man kills another for the sheer feeling it brings; for the intense pleasure. One should only ever take another's life by means of survival and protection, not because warm blood feels good on their cold hands. Notions like that made Mito scowl in defiance, having been born to a great clan who didn't at all mind killing others just for future generations and that sick belief about the legendary names.

It was the name that lives on, her father always told her, and that in years to come nobody will care about Mito, herself. Nobody will care who her father was, and they certainly won't care what good or bad that he had done. He could have saved a hundred lives, or taken a hundred lives and people wouldn't care because the clan name was legend in itself. People in the future will only know about the Uzumaki clan as a whole, nothing more, nothing less.

The patterns of the orchestra of crickets died down as did with the toads, and suddenly the forests and road beside the inn became silent save for the occasional breeze swooping through the coniferous trees and throughout the long blades of grass in the ditches off the roads. Mito felt that feeling of loneliness attach to her like a parasitic leech, she usually felt that way once she grasped the fact that her well-being was inessential to her immediate family.

That wasn't to say the night was lonely. Though it had been soundless- and too much so, Mito couldn't drop the itch that her gut was threatening her about. Her chakra had sensed something however big or small it may be, but nonetheless it was still _something_. But as usual, Mito had put the emotions that she deemed unnecessary aside, it was better off that way. She would much rather try and focus all of her emotional energy on something that mattered, like anger.

Mito walked slowly to the edge of the property that was owned by the inn keep and the road that went past it. Compared the one before, this path was one that was used frequently as she could tell because it was smoothed almost as if it had grown there naturally. She couldn't tell where she was exactly; all she knew was that she wasn't on the small island that she called her home. She was on a different land, and one that she hadn't bothered to ask her family about.

Perhaps it was the Land of Fire. That would make sense because that was the whole purpose of the family traveling. The redhead had always known that the Senju developed from the Land of Fire, and where else would they be besides that place? From what she could reconcile, their two lands weren't all that far away and there weren't many lands that lay between the two; maybe minor states and establishments but that was it. It wasn't like Mito didn't know how to perceive a map.

The road led eerily into a forest that was blackened and you couldn't see anything beyond the woods at that point because it caused heavy shadows. It was so weird, that absence of vision, which was why Mito didn't notice the silent approaching carriage that looked so awfully battered, coming down the opposite end of the road. She had been lost in a train of thought, and when she had seen the coach with two horses carrying it, the Uzumaki had realized something then and there.

She could feel it in her chakra, as strong as any Uzumaki could. She could sense that there were six men in the carriage with their signatures drawn low as if hiding. The driver of the coach eyed her as if she was a piece of lamb waiting to be eaten. He gave her a grin that made it apparent of all his rotten and loose teeth, it was repulsive. When he halted the horses and the carriage stopped, he spoke. "Excuse me, girl; do you know where this road leads to? I am a poor old man who has nobody to guide him."

Mito raised an eyebrow at him, about ready to punch him in the throat for thinking her an idiot. She was an Uzumaki, dammit! She was about to roll up her sleeve to give the old man a beating, when the redhead found that she couldn't move. Various times she had tried but to no avail, and she also felt her abnormal amount of chakra being depleted by the second.

"I'll scream if you-" and in an instant, a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties came behind her and covered her mouth for her. He was one of the men who had one of his chakra signatures on the down-low. She knew that there were at least three out of the seven men maiming her. The one from behind, the one taking her chakra and the one with the chakra strings. Luckily, Mito had a trick up her sleeve.

"I will see you when you awake." Mito had fought for her consciousness as much as she possibly could, but it was to no effect. He had cleanly knocked her out in one good swoop and the last thing that she remembered was being smelled as she fell into the stranger's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Unintentional

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_He is known to be a god in the shinobi world who wields crimson eyes and a deadly name. She is a young girl who is new to the ways of war and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he learns her truth, he is determined to get revenge on his bitter rival using her as his hostage. It wasn't fate that brought them together, nor are they meant for each other. Though their love is passionate, dangerous and anything but innocent; it is true. MadaMito. Rated M for a reason!_

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"People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in; their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."

Quote by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

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**MADARA**

He didn't exactly know how he ended up trudging through the endless amounts of mud puddles and soggy grass and other soaking wet things, but it probably had something to do with the lack of a shelter beneath the rain. He was still drying off from the shower because there was no shelter, no inns no abandoned places but only a variety of spaced out trees as replacement. The man despised the aftermath of the rainstorm more than he did the actual rain, which was just as strange as it was true for him.

Slowly, he walked through the lands that were once filled with angst and treachery, now they were passive and completely undisturbed. That in itself was so unmistakably strange, or at least in his mind. A land that was filled with turmoil with so many deaths just seemed ironic in a way. There was battles fought on the very soil he was standing on, yet now there was nothing left but peace. That in itself seemed so selfish that it almost made him sick.

The acts of certain people were so unforgivable that Madara felt like they shouldn't go unpunished. He had seen much violence, and had caused so much violence that it was futile to think that peace ever existed. It was like a cycle, he had always believed that no matter what someone does to try and make the world a happy place; it was very ignorant of them to do so.

This rainy day was so typical. Madara had spent the day travelling with no specific destination, he didn't have one. He had left his own clan back quite a while ago back in the villages along with the Senju clan. Madara wondered if the clan would feel happy knowing that those who had killed their kin; their sons, their brothers, their husbands- were living right there as their neighbors in that pathetic excuse they called a village.

It was all too pathetic. Every last bit of it was pathetic. The village that would become Konohagakure harboured shinobi already, despite it not being fully completed. After affiliating himself with that retched village for only a short amount of time, Madara had enough of it. They had all acted like nothing had ever happened that their brothers weren't brutally murdered. Hashirama was the worst of them all- he had managed to _let_ it all happen.

His clan, The Uchiha, had also let it happen. They were supposed to be his brethren, and agree with what Madara thought best for the clan. Of course all of his wishes were in vain as Hashirama and his brother always had their way with words and persuasions. Peace, they said. A place where children can grow up without learning the evil ways of warfare seemed highly unfair. As soon as Madara could properly hold a weapon and not manage to hurt himself with it, that was when he was sent to war.

So why should next generations children get to have that luxury when that very element was taken away from him when he was five years old. He learned how to use wield a weapon at that age; he learned how to use his chakra properly at that age, too. By the time he was seven years old he had mastered a variety of fire style techniques, trade mark to the Uchiha clan. In Madara's opinion, just living meant you were guilty in the flesh.

Uchiha Madara scowled and muttered curses under his breath, though nobody would be close enough to hear them. If he shouted, nobody would be close enough to hear him. It was also getting to be very dark, very quickly and even though he didn't want to admit it, he was getting to be tired. He hated sleeping, though. He hated feeling so vulnerable and off-guard that someone as small as a tactless child could cut your throat while you slumber.

Thankfully, he was a light sleeper and managed to wake up earlier than most. He was also a very fine shinobi which meant his chakra was always sensing for others' even though his sensory abilities didn't come to close to those of Hashirama's. So he managed to find a temporary camp, set up a fire and he even found some species of bird to cook. Of course that was all in a matter of minutes, in regards to his Fire Style.

Folding his arms across his chest and resting his head against a spare piece of clothing that he used as a pillow, he let himself relax and look towards the sky. With a lazy flutter of annoyance Madara had closed his eyes and immediately fell into an unconscious state, to which he hadn't failed on leaving traces of his chakra faintly surrounding himself in order to wake him if any intruders were to come about.

He had estimated that he slept for a couple hours when a loud ruckus from the road came about, causing him to open his eyes in a flash. Madara had made sure that he left himself far away from the road, but not too far as to become engulfed in the deeper forests where he would likely spot shinobi running about. The road was usually travelled by lazier shinobi or common folk who wanted to make long distances quick for time. He didn't know what it was for him in his case, though.

There were massive amounts of laughter and wails of humor. It was plain that the travellers were in a large group, and by the sounds of it they were common men or nameless shinobi at the least. Madara reminded himself that it was a road after all and they would be gone within a matter of minutes, then Madara would resume his quick sleep and go off in the morning.

But after half-an-hour of stinging patience, Madara had enough of it. They were probably camping somewhere near him and they wouldn't be shutting up anytime soon. So he left his gunbai and the other small items at his camp to go and shut the lot up. The sooner he got rid of them, the sooner he would sleep. The sooner he would sleep he would awaken and be out of the area by morning. Madara couldn't wait for morning to come, but he was so damned tired.

In less than a minute, using a running start, Madara appeared at their camp which, to say, wasn't that far from his. It was only down a couple of hills, closer to the road than was considered safe, but to every man their own. Madara didn't make himself known to them quite yet, he was contemplating which one made the most noise. The lucky person would be the first killed on Madara's list, and he did plan on killing all of them.

His chakra recognized seven signatures and another one- a faint signature. With chakra builds as good as these, it was obvious that the seven had some form of training in the ninja arts. It was all the better to satisfy Madara's needs to kill something. That urge was mainly directed from his form of hatred and magnified because he was tired as hell and some idiots had awoken him. Madara wouldn't be patient with them once he started the deed.

"Get her ready, I'm going first, then you can sort through yourselves as to whose going next." as Madara hid in the shadows of their camp, he had comprehended that it was the leader of the band of outlaws that had just spoken. He was an ugly man, who looked deader than he was alive with starchy, thin hair and a skinny build. Madara had only glimpsed his rotted teeth when he talked, and it looked as if they would fall out at any moment.

"Should we bring her outside of the carriage, Boss-sama?" one of the other outlaws asked their leader. He was probably the youngest out of all of the men, Madara had decided. He looked to be no more than twenty with oily brown hair and a big belly. None of them looked comely at all, or even looked to be shinobi. They looked like disgusting rats that would pollute the likes of ninja society like a bunch of germs.

The man nodded his head and in moment's time, the young brown-haired fugitive had a limp body across his shoulder. It was apparent that what was lying lifelessly on his shoulder was a woman. No, not a woman, more like a girl. She looked very young, at least seventeen. The girl had long, pleasant hair that brushed against the kneecaps of the man who was carrying her. Her hair reminded him of blood.

Why hadn't Madara already gone and killed them all? He had no reason to wait; even if he was caught off guard Madara would have completely wiped them out without breaking a sweat. Instead he lingered in the shadows like a predator hastily stalking its prey. It was true for the most part- Madara _was_ the predator and these scoundrels were the prey. He didn't even acknowledge himself standing there, watching. He wasn't even thinking.

Once the young bandit had thrown her to the ground, she woke up, shaking her head, evidently wondering where she was. The redhead was tied up- her hands were behind her back and her ankles were as well, preventing her from even standing up. She was tied up, but she still squirmed, knowing that it was all fruitless, but even so; it seemed that girl didn't lose her hope. The rest of the bandits had come out to watch her helpless on the ground.

Simultaneously, Madara knew what would happen to the girl. She would be raped by each and every one of them and then taken to the next stop only for it to be done again. As soon as they had their fill of her, or she made a scene, they would cut her throat and leave her in the ditches for the decay-consuming animals to eat. Madara had seen these types of people more often than not. He had also seen many helpless girls, as she was.

The Uchiha had started to walk slowly towards them, keeping his composure. Once all of them had become aware of his presence, they all looked to one another and laughed and every one of them aside from the leader had begun walking closer to Madara, walking as if they owned the land. In truth, the raven-haired man had never seen such a foul group of people in his life. They stunk like piss and looked like they were corpses with grime and dirt all over them.

"Coming to save the day, are we?" the shortest member of the group of bandits asked him, rhetorically. The short man had gotten a few pats on the back from his fellow friends; they probably thought him clever at least, but Madara just stared at them, wanting to laugh so badly that it almost hurt. In the background, the boss was getting his kunai knife out, Madara even saw him lick it, but he immediately turned away, appalled by the scene.

"Not at all." Madara confessed, sitting on one of the stumps. Madara assumed that the lot of them had no wits to them whatsoever; the band probably didn't even know how to read. He looked into the fire and a moment of silence was passed before he stared back up at the outlaws. "Please, do continue." Half of the group had turned back around to help with holding the girl down and the other half approached him with their arms crossed.

A very chubby man from the side got straight to the point with the Uchiha. "Then get lost, this isn't none of concern. Move along before you wished you regret it." the fat man wasn't very intimidating at all, but out of them all, it seemed he had the most strength within the group. The rest were skinny or lanky, save for the younger man, but this guy was big-boned. He wasn't quite as tall as Madara, as he noticed before, but the whole of the outlaws had probably thought he was some big-shot.

"What are you even doing here, you bastard?" the young bandit asked him, from the side.

Behind the men that were currently in front of him, the leader of the group had cut off the ankle and wrist ropes that the girl was bound with. She was thrashing around in her kimono skirts, it was hard for Madara to believe, she shouldn't even be moving after the small amount of chakra she had left in her. The other men that were assisting had each take a portion of her body and held it down to the ground as their leader pulled down on the folds of his pants.

"I am here because I'm going to kill each and every one of you." Madara looked up from the fire to see the hilarious look on each of their faces. It even made the leader stop, and his cock was brushing the fabrics of the girl's kimono. The Uchiha stood up slowly and took one last look around at their pathetic expressions. "You see, I'm very tired and I was sleeping very nicely until a bunch of _cunts_ had come and disturbed me."

All of them were frozen with fear because Madara didn't stutter once or show any signs that he _wasn't_ serious about his words. The leader was still in his place, about to rape the girl whose mouth was covered by another man's hand and she had tears in her solemn eyes. "I had given you a chance to move along to some place you wouldn't be heard, but I've already decided that you're worthless garbage." Madara had taken out a single senbon from his tool case.

The leader licked his lips. "We're all capable shinobi, don't you underestimate us, punk."

Madara didn't even smile at the amusement, they weren't even worth that. But they were all in a perfect position. He threw the senbon needle at the perfect angle as hard as he could manage. It had gone through the first four guys' head tissue before it fell to the ground along with them. The shot had been precise and now the four of them were all dead in that one simple swoop of that one fine piece of steel that was so conveniently thin.

For the fifth and sixth guy, he used two of his fists to punch them with equal force in the head, which meant that now they were dead because their craniums would be cracked open and shattered. "Pathetic people like you have no rights in calling yourselves shinobi." And without another word, Madara picked the leader of the outlaw's off of the ground and held him by the throat in the air. The raven-haired man pressed into his throat until his eyes were unresponsive and his struggles were no more.

A simple toss and the leader of the band of outlaws had been thrown away like he was nothing; not a human being; not even a living, breathing soul. Madara hadn't even needed to use his Sharingan. It would have been a waste to do so, anyways. These people weren't extraordinary; it was people who pretended to act like shinobi that didn't deserve to live, they were like children who had found a precious mask. They disgraced the name and rubbed it in the dirt.

He reached in his pocket for a second time, but this time he didn't pull out a senbon. It was a kunai knife meant for the girl. The Madara felt its sharp point and clutched it in his hand. She would die anyways; she was just a commoner girl, no shinobi as he could tell. Her chakra was so weak that there was no hope, but even if there was, Madara wouldn't have spared her. It was in his nature to put those who had no strength to offer the world, into the cold ground.

The Uchiha crouched to the ground and took her face into his hands. She hadn't spoken yet, but her tears were starting to dry as if she had accepted that she would be killed this night, though with the way she had been fighting the men earlier, he quickly dismissed the fact. He grappled her neck in his hand, lighter than he had with the man, but nevertheless he stood up and held her throat and her life in his hand as she dangled in the air.

Her long red hair hung in front of her face, hiding every emotion she may have had. She held onto his hand as she was the Uchiha held her there in the air, hoping to save a few of her last breaths in order to live, though he wasn't holding her all that hard. Madara took his kunai knife and planted it slowly into her abdomen, avoiding any vital spots for now, and then while the knife was still implanted in her belly, he moved the fine hair from her face and out of the way of her eyes.

She hadn't even stopped to take it out of her stomach, she just held onto his hand so she wouldn't be choked to death by him. It seemed the girl was smarter than she appeared, but that wouldn't save her life. Madara shut his eyes for a brief second and when he opened them they were red and unforgiving; she was already lost in his world. He held her neck lighter until he was positive that she would live through his Tsukuyomi without being strangled.

Madara looked into her hopeless eyes and she didn't respond. She was already trapped. He would take her memories and make them seen by him, and then she would die, he decided. A variety of images had flooded though his mind while he looked into hers. He saw a quick collection of vague memories when the girl was a child and into the most recent of her memories. Though he hadn't seen _everything_ there was to saw, he did see some events that she had felt strongly about.

Once Madara had decided to end the Tsukuyomi, he threw her to the ground, still with the kunai knife in her stomach. The raven-haired man concluded that she was of great importance. Her name was Uzumaki Mito, the youngest member of her clan, she had learned all of her clan's great techniques and jutsu, but there was that one very significant thing that he saw in her mind and through the redhead's eyes.

It was her betrothal to Senju Hashirama that sparked his interest.

Before she had been kidnapped, the girl had been with her immediate family, traveling to Konohagakure. The band only managed to kidnap her because one of them hadn't waited to hear what she would say, but still- how incredibly pitiable that she was caught by those low-lives. Uzumaki's were supposed to be a fine clan, not nearly as good as the Uchiha in their shinobi ways- but better than most.

No, this would be perfect, he had concluded. If what he had seen through her eyes was correct, and there was no reason to believe that it wasn't, then the Senju clan held very high interest in her and the girl was abundant. He didn't have a plan right then and there, but she would come handy in the near future when he decided to get back at Hashirama. Sooner, rather than later, he had a very dynamic piece in their puzzle. Madara had the girl that Hashirama would marry.

Looking down at the ground, he saw the girl reach for the blade and pull it out of her belly. Those eyes that she had, previously full of emotion, were dull and in their own sort of comatose state, they lacked anything that they once had. It disturbed him, which was very unsettling as he had never felt anything like it in his life. But he cleared off the thoughts as soon as they came to him, he blamed the Tsukuyomi for it all; that sort of thing tended to happen while in effect.

The Uzumaki girl looked scarred somehow, by looking through her eyes with Tsukuyomi he had realized that she had possessed a form of rare Uzumaki medical ninjutsu that was linked with those of the Senju clans.' Yet the girl wasn't even trying to heal herself, her eyes had fluttered to the ground while she held her bleeding stomach. Those eyes, those big brown eyes that held nothing in them currently, Madara didn't know what to think; he just gazed at her.

"Get up." he demanded. But the redhead had made no attempt to get up and it seemed as if she had drowned out sounds completely. She didn't move nor did she didn't shiver when his voice came to her; she just stared with heavy-lidded eyes as if she was going to fall asleep. The Tsukuyomi that Madara had used wasn't meant for torture, she wouldn't feel that great of effect, but somehow the Uchiha had felt that it wasn't _just_ the Tsukuyomi that was taking its toll on her.

"Stand up." the Uchiha almost yelled. He wasn't one for patience and the girl didn't make any efforts at all. Did she not just witness him kill all of her captors? If anything that bloody wench should be on the ground bowing to him for what he had just saved her from. "Did I fucking stutter? Get up; I'm taking you on as my hostage." But still, she didn't move from her spot, her eyes didn't even blink against the small wind. "Get up!" he yelled.

Madara reached for her blood-colored hair and pulled on it, dragging her body towards the way that he had come from. He was going to take her back to the camp whether he had to drag her or if he had to force her to walk there herself. This time, the girl thrashed out, she kicked her legs and held onto her scalp as he pulled her long hair along with him. The Uzumaki girl tried to stand up, but Madara had such a full grasp of her fine hair that he wasn't letting go.

The girl screamed in agony as she was dragged on the ground and up the hill, trying to collect herself to at least stand up. But with a wound in her belly and Madara pulling harshly on her hair, it wasn't working well enough for her. That stubborn bitch wasn't even going to tell him to stop; she had much more pride than that. Damned Uzumaki's. He had fought with a couple the past as they were closely tied with the Senju. They didn't know when or how to give up.

When Madara had reached the camp with a screaming Uzumaki being dragged on the ground, he had finally looked upon the mess he created of her. There were scratches all over her legs- the bandits had made it so her kimono was cut so now it was just above her knees-, probably from the sharp rocks on the ground and the sticks as well. But there was also blood running down her forehead, and that was from the Uchiha, he had realized. He had pulled her hair almost out of her skull.

There were tears in her eyes, and now that he had awoken her from the apparent trance that she was in, she was staring right at him with hurt and hatred. It wasn't as if Madara was used to seeing forms of feeling in others' eyes. Be them detestation or sadness or anything else. But this girl's eyes were as easy to read as any others he had seen before. They were filled with such honesty that there would be no way this girl could ever hope to deceive someone.

Madara had left her remarkably close to himself; about ten feet away against a tree and had even made sure to bind her hands with rope. All so he could keep track of her. She wouldn't be able to go anywhere with them on anyhow, even if she had tried to manage to pull off a few shinobi tricks, she couldn't- her chakra was too low, even for an Uzumaki it was low. Understandable of course, as she had seemed to be knocked out, they were draining the chakra from her the entire time she was captured.

The Uchiha couldn't help but feel naked against her stare. She was looking at him, no, more like glaring at him with her glossy, unforgiving eyes. Madara felt like those eyes of hers were intimidating in a way impossible to understand. And when they paired up with that hair of hers, it seemed almost ironic, in a mocking sort of way. No Uchiha liked to be ridiculed, and that was the impression this Uzumaki girl was giving him.

"You'll regret it if you don't look away from me now, girl." he told her in a very intolerant voice. He wasn't about to lose his feeling of security, his eyes were superior, not hers. Yet her stare didn't falter at all.

"I have a name, and I know that you know it." the redhead said to him. Her tone was demanding and straightforward, something that Madara secretly questioned. A girl with tear stains on her cheeks with hints of blood falling down her forehead of whom was very close to being raped… Well her voice should be weakened, she should have been scared to speak or quivering at the very least. But no, this girl was severe.

Mito her name was, and it had seemed that the Uzumaki girl knew that she was under the influence of his Sharingan because Madara did in fact know her name. "Is that so? Well I don't care much for you or your name. But you already know that, don't you?" Madara had lied back down on his previous position and rested his head against the substitution pillow that he had. But when Madara though he had been very close to sleep, he was woken up by her voice.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked after a long while. It had been clear that while Madara was trying to close his eyes and fall asleep, she was thinking about it. What could he possibly want with someone like herself? She had probably thought. When Madara looked up to her, the blood on her forehead was wiped away, leaving only small traces of it behind, it wasn't very noticeable anymore.

"Eventually, I'm going to kill you." Madara hat put it bluntly. "You are going to be my upper hand against the Senju, and when the time is right and that piece of shit named Hashirama will come to rescue his bride-to-be, I am going to pull your heart out of your chest cavity in front of him and throw it in his face."

That didn't faze the Uzumaki girl for a single second. "Is that so?" she pondered quietly and shortly until she was ready to speak again. "But the Uchiha and Senju are at peace are they not? I guess that means you're Uchiha Madara." The redhead laughed, taunting him. "I heard that you whine and complain like you're still a child and that you favor destruction over peace. I also heard that you wanted to be one of the Senju, but-"

Slap. It had only taken Madara in the blink of an eye to get over to where the Uzumaki girl was and backhand her across her face, and when he did, that signature red hair fell heavy across her face once more. The Uchiha knew that her face would be bruised in the morning, he had snapped and she had crossed the line entirely. "You dare speak to me like that when you _know_ who I am. When you know_ my name_?" Madara spat.

"I don't care much for you or your name." she mimicked. He could tell it was true, too. But it was the exact same thing he had said to her earlier, before he had almost fallen asleep. She was a clever girl, but not nearly as clever as she thought she was. Madara back handed her again, on the same cheek only harder than he did beforehand. He should have known the Uzumaki girl wouldn't submit to his liking. She would be a very hard prisoner to handle, even if she was a woman.

"You better start to care or this will get a lot worse for you." Madara turned around and gazed at the ever-burning fire. It was started with his Fire Style, which meant that it would last remarkably long and would certainly be better than any fire that was built by hand. The flames told a certain truth, and held both life and death in its burning blaze. That's why Madara had admired it so much, and that's why he turned his beliefs to the fire.

"You already said that you would rip my heart out yourself. It's already at its worse." and with that the redhead had rested her head against her chest and said no more, presumably falling asleep. Madara had put his chakra in range around them so he would awake if any disturbance would have happened.

Madara let himself fall asleep easily because he knew that he finally had something that Hashirama didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Unintentional  
_

_He is known to be a god in the shinobi world who wields crimson eyes and a deadly name. She is a young girl who is new to the ways of war and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he learns her truth, he is determined to get revenge on his bitter rival using her as his hostage. It wasn't fate that brought them together, nor are they meant for each other. Though their love is passionate, dangerous and anything but innocent; it is true. MadaMito. Rated M for a reason!_

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**A/N:** Yes, Madara's a douche-bag. Deal with it! But as this is a love story and not really surprising in anyway, Madara will come around… Well sort of. Or maybe not. Hmm. I have many ideas about where I want this story to go. But my inspiration of actually writing a Madara story came from the very lovely graphics that the Naruto people had did for his "promo" episode. You know the one where he's all fighting and stuff. Mmhm! I just loved it so much and I'm just like omg, yes. There is also really inspiring fan art that just gets to me.

For the sake of myself and for the story Mito's primary element will be wind and she is fairly good at using it for her advantage. As you can probably already tell, she's much like Naruto in terms of personality, but I want to make her a very strong kunoichi indeed. I mean she is an Uzumaki and she is Tsunade's grandmother and perhaps Mito had taught her grandchild a few jutsu. And because Uchiha's love strength within women, she is going to be just that.

AND I should probably warn you about some of the scenes in the next chapter. They may be disturbing and you'll know what I mean when you get there... I've rambled on for much too long, my apologies, everyone. Enjoy the next chapter!

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"You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have truly lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love."

Quote by Henry Drummond

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**MITO**

A foot to the ribs had woken her up. It wasn't a soft, acquainted brush to the ribs like a friend would do to wake you up from sleep. No, it was a harsh kick like someone was trying to pulverize her and break them all with one swift movements. The kick had hurt, but Mito had embraced all of her pain because she knew that more was coming. Her eyes flickered open at an alarming speed, waking as soon as she felt the nerves in their earnest pain.

As if the stab to the gut wasn't enough, he had dragged her by her hair and hit her twice across the face. Who knew a shinobi who was supposed to defend the weak and be honored and chivalrous would do so to someone as helpless as she was? Though Mito hated to admit that she was helpless, that's exactly what she was, and what made matters worse was that she had gotten most of her chakra drained by those oblivious sissies that she was captured by.

Mito could stand the shit she was taking from this Uchiha Madara. But what she had to live with was her own, personal disgraces. She had her guard up, yet she was attacked from behind. She was taken by a flock of men who didn't know which way was right and which way was left. The redhead had almost had her maidenhead taken and she was defenceless against them because her chakra had been draining from her for the endless hours that she was in the carriage with those men. What she had to endure from herself, from her dignity being taken- now what was worse than what this Uchiha had to offer.

Plus, her chakra had resumed at the peak of the new day. She would have more chakra to help get herself away from _him_ and back to her family, which brought her to remember the fight that she had with them prior to being kidnapped. It was unusual to admit, but now, she missed all of them. Mito had missed her harsh father, she had missed her proper mother, her dimwitted oldest brother, her other naïve brothers. Gods, she had even missed her irritating sister.

That was part of the reason Mito had to fight to win against this man. She would not only do it for the sole sake of her family, she would do it for herself. To bring back justice to this man who she had known to do such wrong to the world. But mostly, she would restore her own vanity within her own mental world that she worried so much over. Though her family put her down sometimes and they were a handful, dammit she was an Uzumaki! She had a great duty to uphold.

Though she had sworn an oath never to be weak again, she couldn't help but reflect back to the night before when she had looked into the eyes of the man who was going to rape her. She was only inches away from being peeled open and taken every way possible. In some eccentric way, she had thanked the Uchiha's timing. Mito had cried so much, she remembered, and just thinking about it made her want to.

The Uchiha grabbed Mito by her arms and lifted her up to a standing position. She flexed her calves and her ankles and every joint she possibly could. Then she shrugged, motioning for Madara to undo her rope fastenings. He just simply looked at her like he didn't know what she was saying. He started to walk, ignoring her wishes completely, walking slow at first, waiting until Mito would follow along. _That bastard_.

"I thought you were _Uchiha Madara_. If such a thing is true, why are you so afraid to cut my bindings?" Those simple words made him look in her direction. She considered herself lucky for being able to poke at the Uchiha the way she was. "Don't tell me you're afraid of what a little girl might do to the big bad Uchiha." That sparked something in him, obviously because Madara was walking in her direction, with a more-sour-than-usual look on his face.

He took her jaw and held it in his hands, examining it. Mito's hair fell to the sides of her face, as she had lost her clip to hold it down somewhere that she didn't even want to think. The Uchiha pressed his fingers on the bruise that he had created last night as hard as his fingers would go into his cheek without them piercing the skin underneath. As he pressed on it, Mito felt the nerves crawl up her face and it felt like the bruise was a lot bigger than she had once thought it was.

"You don't get to speak to me like I'm some lowborn scum." when he stopped putting pressure on the bruise he turned her around and cut the ropes with a kunai knife that he was holding, then pushed her forward, almost causing her to fall. But Mito stood her ground; she wouldn't look weak in front of this man again. "I will know if you even _think_ about trying anything to escape. If you do I will break your leg and still make you walk."

Mito scowled, but she continued on, rubbing at her sore wrists. Her hands were a shade of purple once she actually looked at them. The rope had been on so tight that it felt like it had _burned_ her skin and when she examined her wrist closely, she could see the red marks that hugged her lightened skin tone. The redhead was beginning to run out of possible insults to him in her head. She couldn't think of anymore bad things to call him with him being offended. Most of the things that Mito had been thinking about were childish things only a three year old would call someone.

The Uchiha had found the road, and once the two of them kept at an even pace, Mito had begun to grow bored of thinking up insults in her mind that she would say to him once she had the advantage. Without thinking of her next actions properly, Mito stopped in the middle of the road. It didn't take long for the Uchiha to turn around and notice that she wasn't walking anymore. She just stood in the middle of the road, glaring at this Uchiha Madara.

"Why are you doing this?" the Uzumaki girl asked him. Madara walked up to Mito and grabbed her upper harm and pulled it along with him, using plentiful force. She walked queerly alongside him while he pulled on her for a few moments, but then stopped again, demanding an answer. This Uchiha thought he was the best player in the game. Mito wasn't all that good with technique, she preferred to rush into things and think upon it afterwards. But there might be something she could do…

"Do you want to get tied up again?" he yelled, and right in her ear, too. But Mito didn't flinch. "Or is it more justified to force you to walk while your leg bone in sticking out of your skin?" Madara pulled on her arm again, probably expecting that she would have given in after his serious threats, but Mito wasn't a sucker like he had thought she was. Mito planted her feet in the ground, making it almost near impossible for the Uchiha to force her along with the way he was.

The Uchiha grabbed her leg, causing her to lose her balance and trip onto the ground. He put an insane amount of compression onto her leg, and she knew that it would match her cheek later on. As his face went into a better angle, Mito built up a strong gathering of chakra in her leg and kicked him as hard as she could muster. He went shooting back, and Mito had figured that it was her chance to escape.

She scrambled to the ground and ran away using all the speed she had. Mito put extra chakra in her legs to make her go faster, faster, as fast as she possibly could without using up all of her chakra. Looking back wasn't an option, Mito was scared that if she looked back, she would see where the Uchiha was and it would make her lose her footing. The redhead just ran down the road and away from him.

Around the road, there was nothing but forest and more shrub areas. Mito had figured that she'd have a much better chance in losing him for good in the foliage. It wasn't particularly thick, but it wasn't completely wasteful. As she turned to go into the forest, a gigantic fire ball had lightly kissed her skin with intense heat and she only just got away. There wasn't any mistake there; that was the Fire Style, and probably Uchiha Madara.

It seemed like the fire was getting larger and more chakra-filled. It came closer to Mito, and she felt the concentration of the heat and power of the jutsu. She had never seen such a lasting Fire Style before. But it wasn't about to extinguish until Mito was burned to a crisp or collapsed onto the ground. She took her outer kimono off and performed a quick five-set hand seals and the flames reduced very rapidly until there was an array of symbols and letters on the fabrics of her clothing.

Mito wasn't about to use her hand as the sealing method to the flames, though it would have work, she would have burned the palm of her hand and she would be in agony for a few days. But she had settled for the only thing that she had on her- her clothing. Though she felt very bare in her small, delicate piece of fabric covering all of her essentials, it had kept her away from Madara for a little bit longer.

Through the last threads of smoke from the Fire Style jutsu, she could see the obvious figure coming towards her at a remarkable speed. Mito accurately put forth a large amount of her chakra into her right heel and slammed it into the earth, causing the ground to shatter like it was nothing more than a mirror. It probably went on for several meters, and Mito was almost sure she had gotten the Uchiha to slow down.

As she turned around and began to ran, she crashed into that very person and she was off her feet. Madara was in front of her. Arms crossed, face with frustration and extreme anger. Mito realized that there was no chance to escape him. Not yet. Even in her lands, this man was renowned for his mastery of the Sharingan and his excellency with jutsu. He was supposed to be aligned with Hashirama as a _perfect_ shinobi.

Yet the entire time that Mito had seen him, not once had he turned on his Sharingan. Did that just simply mean that she wasn't worth his Sharingan? Did it mean that Mito wasn't a formidable opponent? It appeared that Madara hadn't thought her worthy to fight serious with her, which made Mito all the more temperamental and pissed off. Goddamned bastard thinks he's the god of all mankind.

He reached down and picked Mito off the ground by the scruff of her neck and in a flash of anger; Mito slapped him in the face. She had felt powerless just then and there. There was no chakra added into her slap, either, she just acted on her pure impulse. Madara had found that quite offensive, probably more so than if she _were_ to put chakra into her punch, Mito had known this just because of the look on his face.

Madara took her and threw her into a distant tree with a certain force that was meant to disable your movements. As she slammed into the tree, she bathed her back with chakra for that split second as to not disturb any of her insides; it probably would have if she hadn't. When Mito crashed into the tree, she almost went through it. Or at least it felt like it. She had heard the breaking of tree bark and wood, thankfully not the breaking of her bones.

Mito slid down the tree, defeated, but the Uchiha wasn't quite done yet. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of her. Without knowledge of what he would do next, Mito had tried to pull her weight and stand up. But the act was useless, even when her chakra did protect her. It seemed that she hadn't put enough chakra in the act because she didn't realize he had the intent to break her bones. She was powerless right now. It felt like her entire body was bruised from the core to her skin.

He grabbed Mito and threw her to the forest floor so that she would be flat on the ground. Mito struggled to do something, to do anything before he could hurt her again. The only thing she was strong enough to do was move her body very, very slowly. But even that process hurt like hell. Madara had no regards for anything, how unfair of a fight it was; Mito was helpless against the ground- for a second time!

Without expecting what the Uchiha would do next, Mito had closed her eyes, wishing that he would just knock her out or kill her, or something. She didn't want to go through any more pain than she was already in. In an instant, Madara was pinned on top of her, ripping apart her smallclothes with his bare hands. He had totally ripped them in half, but thankfully they were still shielding her most private parts. It was all just a warning, right? He was just doing it to stop her from doing anything reckless again.

Only now, he had pushed the thin white kimono aside and gazed at her whole, entirely. Even though it pained her to do so, she put her hands across her chest, forbidding his eyes to look upon her. Gods, her arms hurt so much; it was like her skin was peeling away, when in reality it was only her flesh that mocked it, it would hurt for a few days and no more, but the way it was this second. It was unlike any other pain she had ever felt before.

As Mito hid herself from this Uchiha stranger, he pulled her arms away and threw them down, pinning them down. The way he looked at her was agony, she looked at his face and she couldn't tell his emotion and that _scared_ her to death. That emotion made the tears come pouring out of her eyes, much more than she had reckoned her sister's tears to be. The level of uncomforting that Mito was feeling was beyond anything she could have imagined.

Already she had felt dirty and used like she was some common whore, this was the first time someone had ever gazed at her breasts and seen her naked. Her eyes began to grow weary from all the salt from her tears, they shut for a few seconds but Mito had to keep herself awake, she had to fight. That's why she struggled as much as she could, which was compared to nothing because he hadn't even _thought_ about moving away from her.

As if the lack of comfort wasn't bad enough, he had put his hand over her belly and felt her skin. It wasn't like he was petting her; it was like he was feeling her, almost as if he could sense her pain. But that idea was preposterous as he had no idea what pain she was feeling. Both physically and emotionally, Mito was hurt in ways that she didn't care to try and figure out. It was useless for Mito to try and feel pity for herself now.

Once the motions on her belly had stopped, he had dug his finger into her skin and traced it to the top of her ribs, like he was cutting her like a simple piece of paper. His finger was jabbing into Mito, almost comparing to her level of pain all over her body. The Uchiha grabbed her breast and purged it, causing Mito to cry out in sheer pain and she continued her crying. He pressed the flesh up against Mito's own skin and pulled it and yanked it. He did the exact same to the opposite.

"Please, please, please." the girl begged as he grappled both breasts in his hands. "Stop this. I promise you that I'll stop disobeying you, whatever you want, just stop." she was sobbing uncontrollably and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Now, the man was leaning down and he lightly kissed her puckered nipple before taking one in his mouth and biting on it with fierce, ignoring her pleas.

His eyes looked from her chest downwards to her navel and _below_. Mito noticed where his gaze was. "Don't." she sobbed; she _pleaded_. She was desperate, but she didn't know what to do. She couldn't move a muscle, but she had to do something or else she would never forgive herself. Mito didn't even want to think about what would happen during and after the act was complete. She _couldn't_ imagine it. That in itself was so painfully hard to visualize, even though it was minutes away from happening.

She watched as he opened up his hakama and seized his member. Mito's control was completely lost, she was screaming and crying and begging for him to quit what he was doing. Madara hovered over her with a plain face and put his face next to her ear. "Next time it's going to be for real, just remember that." Then he stood back up and arranged himself and his hakama properly, making sure there wasn't anything out of place. The man had left Mito unbroken.

Mito gasped for air, she felt like she couldn't breathe. A wave of relief crashed over her and it was hard to gulp down the lump that was once beginning to form in her throat. The tears that were once the beginning of a waterfall had started to melt into her skin, being absorbed with nothing left but their tracks like footprints in the snow. Her eyelashes batted heavily back and forth. Though her body had been seen and examined, it was only her chest that had been touched.

Not her lips, not her core. For that she was grateful, but the scare had put her into a state of shock where she wasn't thinking clearly. In fact, Mito hadn't even been thinking at all. It all seemed like it was so real, like it was going to happen no matter what. She was so lost in her mind that she didn't even feel herself being wrapped up in a material that wasn't her own. When she gazed at the Uchiha, his armor was off and the first layer of his hakama was what he was using on her.

The man put his armor over his secondary layer of his hakama. His kimono that was over-topping her body, he didn't even bother trying to fit onto her. It would have taken a lot of time that wasn't meant to be used for such a thing. So instead he just draped her in his clothing like it was a blanket, and then he picked her up and put her over his shoulder like she was a dead body.

"I hate you." she whispered.

Mito struggled to keep herself awake, but her eyes were burning with tiredness and she felt nauseous because of the entire ordeal. But every time she blinked, it seemed to get her even wearier and exhausted than she had been formerly. Though she had only just woke up about an hour or so ago, the girl had felt more drained than she had ever thought to be. Dying wouldn't be so bad, she thought. A peaceful death where she fell asleep and never woke up, now that would be perfect.

Uzumaki Mito had given into her senses and her mind slowed and her breathing started to go more softly. As she started to slip into her state of insentience, she remembered slightly welcoming the world of pretend and magic that she wished was real.

When the Uzumaki girl had awoken, her field of vision was much different than before. Instead of a flat set of land marked with trees, she was being carried slowly down a narrow path in a very steep and mountainous range. She felt like she was hanging by a string when the Uchiha was carrying her because if she leaned over in the slightest- it would mean that she was a goner. She would probably hit her head on stone and be carried away by the river below.

For a moment, Mito had considered this. Anywhere but with _him_ would be better. But she hadn't even gone through her life yet. She had yet to become a woman, she had yet to get married and have children and grandchildren. Mito always knew she had been born only to do this, but she had also become a greater kunoichi than any Uzumaki lady. Or at least that was what her grandmother had told her, and Mito always wanted to believe it.

Despite her father's dislike of her training, she did it anyways. She had received training from the elders of Uzushiogakure and her clan and had read many ancient manuscripts. Mito had discovered her own personal element by herself, which was the rarest one of them all. All the while Saimei dove into elegant kimonos and the idea of childbearing at a very early age. Mito couldn't _die_ yet. The girl had things she needed to do, people she wanted to see.

Mito hung there like a doll made from straw; she wasn't even holding onto her captor. She was being hauled as if she was nothing but a sack of potatoes. The man didn't even struggle while carrying her, but Mito wasn't very heavy, either. Though she hated to admit it, she was comfortable; _safe_ even. The redhead had known some of the few advantages of being a captive. It meant that no harm would come to her as long as she was worth value to his enemies.

She just had to hope that Senju Hashirama would cooperate.

Many men would probably break their sacred oath in a second if they had learned that someone had taken their betrothed captive. She had known many men who favored the tightness of a woman's cunt or the overpowering feeling of sheer drunkenness. Perhaps even money, gambling or something of the sort. They would remove any oaths or promises without a second thought. It worried Mito, slightly. But this man was supposed to be one of the greatest shinobi ever. He wouldn't forsake a title like that for any of those things.

But still, Mito had never met this man. The girl had also heard about the Uchiha in that sort of way. In a way that seemed as if he and his rival were the sun and the moon. Mito had heard things about him that weren't particularly good, but not evil. He was supposed to be a man of honor, a man of righteousness, but mostly a family man. Now that Mito had known him, for the very short time she did, she could only describe him as a monster.

What if this Senju Hashirama had tried to take her like this Uchiha Madara did? Or were the Uchiha's intentions fake all along? Maybe he had never wanted to hurt her. Maybe he had just wanted to scare her. That seemed logical enough. But Mito was a woman. A vulnerable woman with something that every man wanted, and why would Madara be any different than that? He had already touched her in vile, cruel ways that had hurt Mito a lot more than it should have.

When Mito had gotten wind a whiff of the salty sweet air she quivered a little. She knew where the man was taking her. But why? What reason could this Uchiha stranger possibly have to take her to a place like _this_? Hot springs were supposed to be places of calm, meditated mornings and peaceful evenings. Some even chose them for a location to practice in quiet if the place was isolated enough, but everything… Everything was so wrong, this man didn't make any sort of sense.

Madara had wanted destruction. He had no conscience or guilt or remorse. His mind was a flood of violence and nothing more. The Uchiha had said it himself- he was going to brutally kill her in front of the man that she was to marry. Yet hot springs and their inns were always symbolized as zen places, almost as if they were dojos. Some minor clan had even taken a mountain with a steam pool as it's banner. The place was the opposite of everything Madara had ever stood for.

After the walk, Madara had stopped and though Mito could only see what was behind the man she had concluded that the duo had arrived at this place. Mito had tried to clear her throat but she failed miserably, as she hadn't talked for hours and the last shred of voice that was left in her was yelling and screaming. "You," she began only shortly before coughing. "Uchiha… Why did you bring me to this place?"

The redhead had felt his muscles tighten and then release, as if he was upset or frustrated. "This will be our home for the time being. The owner owes me a favor, you see." the man hadn't cared to elaborate, because as soon as he stopped talking, he started walking again. The sound of a door sliding open was the only sound that Mito heard afterwards, aside from the tune of water hitting water, but that was probably a waterfall.

"Ah! Uchiha-sama!" the voice of an elderly man had said. He didn't sound like he was going to croak, like most old people did- including her grandmother. But instead he had sounded pleasant and reassuring, it maid Mito shiver. How could anyone think so highly of this man? As a last act of disappointment, the only thing she could do was roll her eyes at both the elderly man and this Uchiha Madara.

"What brings you here, Uchiha-sama?" an elderly woman's voice was heard next. The two were probably husband and wife. But her tone was more crumbly than her assumed-husband. She had the voice of her grandmother, almost. It was scratchy and you could tell that she had a hard time keeping up with her age. The woman's voice just wanted to stay younger, but simply couldn't. The familiarity in the two voices spooked the girl a little bit.

"I've come to collect my payment." this man was doing everything but procrastinating. Gods, he was so direct and unsharpened, much like she was. Mito didn't admit that, nor did she even think it. This man was pure evil, it was amazing that Mito hadn't flung herself down the mountain or tried to put up a fight. But she had known that doing so would cause more trouble for herself. It would cause unspeakable things, things that Mito would much rather keep confidential.

"Well of course you have!" replied the cheerful man. Mito heard a pair of rushing steps walking from the wood onto the ground and soon enough she could hear the breathing of the two hosts blatantly in front of Madara. "What will you have us do, Uchiha-sama?" it was the woman's voice now. The couple had seemed to love taking turns; Mito had to admit it was cheesy but somehow right. Marriage was supposed to be about love and Mito had found herself in a loveless engagement currently.

"You will allow me to live here for however long I seem fit along with my lover." the second his cool, confidant voice had said that, Mito had lost her words. She didn't know what to do, say or think. The girl couldn't even process that properly, she was completely thrown back and in total awe of the situation. She would have screamed if she had the voice, she would have fought back if she had the capabilities. But all of that was taken away from her at the moment.

"That seems appropriate!" the old man had said, and she could feel Madara start to walk again. "You two may have the bedroom at the very top! Stay as long as you like!"


	4. Chapter 4

Unintentional

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_He is known to be a god in the shinobi world who wields crimson eyes and a deadly name. She is a young girl who is new to the ways of war and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he learns her truth, he is determined to get revenge on his bitter rival using her as his hostage. It wasn't fate that brought them together, nor are they meant for each other. Though their love is passionate, dangerous and anything but innocent; it is true. MadaMito. Rated M for a reason!_

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**A/N:** I have so much inspiration for this coupling it's insane. I think it's mostly because I basically have no restrictions to the two of them. I mean SasuSaku has history and personality and that's why they're my OTP, but with MadaMito… Can you guess? I can make them whoever I want them to be. I don't have as many limits with the two of them which makes me think more and more about what I could do with them, it's great and I feel so completely energetic when I type the story out.

Also I was originally going to release this chapter next Friday, but since it's Valentine's Day and romance equals happiness, I am releasing it TODAY because this is a long Author's Note, I just wanted to share that with you for some unknown reason. I like to talk okay. Enjoy the story, little birds! Make sure to review, please, please, please! Sixty viewers and one review is not making my day any better and I would be inspired x100 (and not to mention I'd be typing like Bruce Almighty!) if you would just give me a shout or whatever you'd like. Thank you to the guest, Lucy and donnaforgot for reviewing chapter three, it means a lot!

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"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

Quote by Orson Welles

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**MADARA**

Old Man Asahi and his wife took their leave once they had both escorted himself and the Uzumaki girl to the place they would be staying at. The room wasn't very spacious, but it was the biggest one in the inn, he knew. Completed with a small circular window and a washroom and a single bed, the room was quite nice and clean and simple. It was admittedly cozy, though nothing could replace his home with the other Uchiha who he deemed now as traitors.

Madara dropped the girl on the bed from his height and she almost went bouncing off. Her face was held in a pout meanwhile her eyes told a different story. He had figured out almost as soon as he had met her that those eyes were mirrors of her true emotion. While her jawline and lips had told him that she was upset everything that had happened thus far- her eyes had expanded and told him that she had fear in her heart and that rendered her speechless. The girl looked like she would cry.

Pathetic little thing, she was. Though he had to give her some credit for living up to the Uzumaki name- she's quick on her feet and very tempered, which can be good in a fight. He had recognized that great fire sealing method as a trade element seal kept secreted in the clan, but even that wasn't good enough for him. She was strong, yes, probably more so than any kunoichi he had encountered. But all of that was at a fault for the rebellious girl. Her age and will was what made her weak.

She didn't have a purpose; she wasn't fighting for anyone or anything. It was as if she only learned the shinobi arts to prove something or take advantage of it. Her life was probably perfect- living on a practically desolate island with countless allies and protection. She was nothing compared to the shinobi he had faced. The Uzumaki girl was what? Sixteen? Something or another… But she had no discipline or experience in war, and Madara loathed the fact.

The girl was so young and innocent that Madara had figured that he could never acknowledge her openly. It was hard to do so even thinking about it. She was almost as useless as those bandits that he had killed yesterday. The only thing that the Uzumaki had that was beneficial was her name and her betrothed. If those scumbag outlaws had known who she was, they would have taken her to the nearest collection agency and sold her for a quick piece of gold without so much as laying a single finger upon her.

Luckily Madara had been in the right place, and now Hashirama would most certainly find himself in a troubling dispute. He couldn't wait to take the girls heart out and throw it on that Senju's smug face. It would all happen in a few seconds, and before he could do anything about it, that bitch Mito would be on the floor in a pile of blood. That wouldn't be his only vengeance, Madara wanted to do everything in his power to make sure Hashirama would never be safe and happy. He owed him that much.

"We're not lovers, why would you tell them such a thing?" the Uzumaki girl asked. There was terror in her voice and that was exactly how the Uchiha had liked it. When Madara turned to face her, her eyes looked away from him. She didn't even want to look at him, but Madara preferred it so. No more would she be that disrespectful little brat that lashed out. No, once he was done with her she would shutter at his very presence.

"It makes more sense, wouldn't you say so? Was I supposed to tell them that you're my hostage? How well would that go over? If I say that we're lovers they won't have any suspicions you silly little girl." Madara scoffed. He almost rolled his eyes or even laughed at her naivety, but that would probably give the Mito girl some ease and that was the last thing that Madara had ever wanted to give the bitch.

"If any of your enemies figure out that you have taken on a mistress, then you'll be vulnerable." she had concluded, still looking anywhere but at the intimidating crimson eyes of the Uchiha. Madara hadn't even needed to think her words thoroughly. They were a means of scaring him, and that much he knew for certain. All this girl was trying to do was make him bend towards her will, and that he wouldn't do even if it killed him.

"Enemies?" It was all he could do from not laughing his ass off at her conclusion. It wasn't even worth pitying, that blood-haired girl. She was too oblivious to even the most obvious of things. "Somewhere along the way did you bump your head, or are you sincerely that stupid? You seemed to have forgotten who I am."

Finally, the redheaded Uzumaki had met with his eyes; fear coiled into them, yet boldness as well. Her expression showed nothing of the horror her eyes had, she looked to be strong. But once you looked into her wholesome eyes, you could see every bit of thought she was thinking. The girl was terrified, truly. She was raised not to be afraid of anything or at the very least _show_ fear to your enemies. Yet she could have fooled him without those orbs that would be such a nuisance.

That poor girl, she was so perfect that it was unrealistic. She was fragile to the sense that Madara could break her in an instant. There she sat, effortlessly beautiful and so entirely delicate like she would break under any more pressure. He had almost broken her; he had almost smashed her glass existence in his hands. The Uchiha was so tempted to take her then and there while she lied defenseless on the bed; taking such innocence would make Madara feel indescribable.

Despite the bruise he had given her, despite the dried up blood and the scratches all over her pale body she still seemed to be the ideal young girl. It was no wonder Hashirama had sought for her, he had a say in who he would marry of course. He was to be named the Hokage in a short amount of time. Senju Hashirama could have anyone he ever so desired and he chose this girl. This one defiant, hell of a child and the God of Shinobi had wanted her.

Madara didn't know whether it was the fact that Hashirama had wanted her so bad, or the fact that she was giving him an unsettling feeling that he terribly wished to shatter her in sexual ways that he couldn't quite explain. What a shame her unspeakable attitude had deprived her of any real respect from Madara. Though she looked like she was _something_, she would always be nothing. She would always be that devilish girl who demanded too much and gave nothing in return.

The Uchiha battled those thoughts inside of his head. He only wanted to _fuck_ the girl and that was it. No annoying feelings involved at all. She was worthless and at the end of the day, that overruled his sexual desires by much and more. A girl like her can try and outdo a man of his substance, but she would miserably fail and it would cost the girl her life. Madara couldn't wait to feel her warm blood around his hand as he killed her. He couldn't wait to take the life from _those _eyes.

"I haven't forgotten." she had said. _But she doesn't care_. No matter which way Madara had looked at it, this Uzumaki Mito didn't care much for names or titles. Even for one's such as his and even Hashirama's. She didn't seem to be saying that her betrothed would pay a hostage fee; she hadn't made any empty threats concerning Hashirama. This girl simply didn't care for anyone but herself. Though sometimes, it seemed that she didn't even care about her own safety.

"Well I hope you haven't gotten too cozy because we're leaving." those words made Mito's expression go from bold to sour. She was confused at his actions, he could tell, but they always meant something. One thing Uchiha Madara didn't do was procrastinate, he got things done, be them dirty work or not. The man didn't mind being the bad guy if it meant getting what was right for him. Being a hero wasn't in his best wishes, unlike Hashirama.

"But we just got here!" it almost sounded as if she was complaining, but then again, what would she complain about? It wasn't like she wanted to be here, it wasn't her choice in the matter. But Madara waved his hand away as soon as she got the notion that they were actually leaving the mountain and inn. No, things were just getting started. Madara couldn't wait until he had the perfect chance to get his sweet revenge.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Madara mocked. He then grabbed the bruised and battered girl from the bed and hauled her back down the stairs and out the doors of the inn. As he walked, he could feel that she was trying her hardest to kick him down or something of the same matter. All of her efforts were useless, though. Madara had known that his throw had hit her hard, and even an Uzumaki or a Senju would have troubles healing with their fast rates when it was a throw like his.

Madara didn't need to look at the Katari Mountain map to know where he was going, he had trained a few times at this same mountain. He went down the short little trail that led him to the hot springs that were just as steamy as any smoke bomb. But as soon as he entered the thick veil of smoky water, he started to get sweaty. Thankfully, he would be washed up in no time and cleansed after the long days of walking in the sun.

He also needed to get the wench cleaned up; the girl was covered with more dirt than Madara. He couldn't have her looking like a pile of sticks and leaves, the inn owners would start to question how well he was treating her. _Not good_ of course, and no amount of cleanliness could change that. But the Uchiha had wanted it to seem like she was good enough for him, meaning she couldn't have an ugly face or infected scratches all over herself.

"Gods, you're taking me to the springs out of all places? Are you bathing me as well?" she blabbed. Dammit, that girl was so annoying. Madara so badly wanted to leave her tied up in the woods for the wolves and crows to feed on her flesh. Why did _she_ have to be so important out of any girl? Why couldn't that damned Hashirama chosen a girl more suited to keeping her mouth shut and only speak when she was directly spoken to.

Once the duo had gotten to the frontal part of the hot springs, it seemed that they were the only ones there as there were no garments or footwear. But luckily enough, there was a small wooden bench a few feet away from the drop off for the water. He put the Uzumaki girl on the bench and took off his shoes first, followed by hers. How would he do this? How could he possibly have to take care of her like this?

"Are you going to undress me?" the girl asked, innocently. Madara could barely see her from his very few feet away because the steam was so thick. The Uchiha wondered how the redhead would act if he did. He _did _make it look like he was going to force her, when really it was all just a big misunderstanding. Madara would never do such a thing truly, he only pretended to do so in order to cause more fear from her. He liked fear.

She would probably scream if he tried to, and if she did Madara could see himself twisting her neck around and pulling it from the socket. How was it so impossibly hard to not fear a man such as himself? It made the whole situation so much worse for Madara; he had to struggle to take control when he had always been the one pulling the reigns, the one that was always in control. Why did she have to be so fucking stubborn?

"Do you want to be clean?" Madara responded, sarcastically. Her rhetorical questions were really starting to piss Madara off. Even with the circumstances of what had happened earlier that day, the Uzumaki girl couldn't expect to be given advantages and rights. She was a hostage, not a companion! The only reason Madara hauled her around was because she would only slow them down a heck of a lot more. Though he admitted it would have been much easier if he hadn't beaten her so hard.

"I'd rather stay dirty if that's the case." she let her arms relax at the sides, making them droop down to the floor so her hands were brushing the wooden plates that separated the hot springs from the standing area. "I mean what would you do in my situation, you know? Would _you_ let someone who tried to rape you take off your clothes again if you were a female?"

Madara sighed. "I didn't try to rape you." The Uchiha almost sounded like he was being defeated by a young, uninformed girl such as herself. She played him for a fool, Madara knew that he did. Why else would she be testing him the way that she did? Yet she didn't learn her lesson and she probably never will unless Madara did do the deed. She wouldn't have even looked his way again and he would have been her master for all he knew.

"I'm pretty sure you did." she argued, sounding like she had already relieved herself that everything was going to be okay. In that short amount of time, the redhead wasn't begging for him to stop or even sounding like she was afraid. No, now she sounded like she could beat him in any fight, that she would always have the upper hand. Madara had to take a few breaths of air to reassure himself that it was all just a phase to see how easy it would be for themselves while being a hostage.

"You held me down and cut off my cloth. You climbed on top of me, you touched me, you bit at me and I even saw your cock." the words sounded so uncouth coming out of her. It sounded much worse than Madara had intended it to be, he never meant to hurt her in _that_ way, or sexually abuse her or whatever she may think. Even Uchiha Madara wasn't as low as that, despite what everyone believes. He was thinking about it, of course, but never would he do it.

"It was all an act." Madara had said truthfully. "Now either take your clothes off yourself and hop into that spring, or else I will do it for you and _throw_ you in it." Madara took his armor off slowly, followed by the second layer of his hakama. The Uchiha had set them all aside so they wouldn't get soaking wet. He would have to wash them later on, as well. When he was on his last layer of clothing, he looked over at the Uzumaki who hadn't even made an attempt at moving.

"Can't you heal yourself?" Madara questioned the girl. But he already knew the answer. She had chakra, yes, but Madara had mistakenly thrown her against the tree using a great force of power that she probably wasn't used to. The Uchiha knew he shouldn't have done such a thing because of her lack of mobility, but at the same time his anger was so balled up and she was pissing him off- or still pissing him off rather.

"I will undress myself." Even though the redhead had barely the capability to do so, she would rather that then be exploited by that man again. She was probably in a severe pain episode, but her being an Uzumaki would mean that she would heal within the next day or so, whereas most people would have been hospitalized for a month for Madara's power is nothing to be messed around with. Surely this Uzumaki Mito would have understood by now.

She groaned loudly in pain as she sat herself up. The effects weren't nearly as bad as before, Madara had concluded. The girl was healing fast compared to others he had seen, it was remarkable. When he had been on top of her, it looked as if it was as painful as breaking every bone in your body. But now, she could make small movements even though it hurt her to do so. The Uzumaki clan were an impressive bunch. Though not nearly as much as the Senju or Uchiha.

"Look away." she demanded softly. She sat there; looking up at him, waiting for him to do is duty and turn away so she could get undressed. The girl wouldn't expose herself to him, he knew that much. So he turned around and waited for her. The redhead whimpered in pain and groaned and he heard the soft falling of his kimono from around her. Madara knew that she was completely naked, he had given her that kimono to put around her and when he did she had no clothes on.

Before Madara could turn back around and face her, he had already heard the faint droplets and splashes of water, which meant she had struggled to get into the hot springs, but she did so without having him see her. It seems that was her mission, she didn't want to be looked at or touched by Madara in any way possible, and the Uchiha completely understood it. He hated her as much as she hated him, there was nothing more to be said.

The Uchiha removed his last layer of clothing and now he was completely bare. He walked slowly into the water and his nerves were enraptured at the soothing heat that was bouncing from the water and seeping into the pores of his skin. In all honesty, Madara had thought it a wonderful feeling, gracious and this was the only peace that the Uchiha would ever allow. As selfish as it may sound, when he was submerged into water such as this, he didn't really feel the need to do much of anything else.

Katari Mountain hot springs may be luxurious and calming, but they weren't as big as most and the springs and the inn were very hard to get to. It was the reason the elderly couple didn't usually have any business. The inn and mountain was usually reserved for wanderers or something of the like. The business was so out of the way from everywhere else, it was desolate and scarcely anyone knew about it.

Luckily enough, the springs had a small enough circumference that he could plainly see the girls' whereabouts and they went deep so she wouldn't have to feel unsafe about him seeing her womanly parts. Madara sighed and swung his arms to the edges of the water and used them to relax and hold himself up. Meanwhile, he watched the Uzumaki girl sink below the water with everything below her nose plunged and start to blow bubbles under the water.

"Quit mucking around and scrub yourself clean." Madara said before he closed his eye to unwind himself a bit more. He had gotten himself in a good position and the perfect level of comfort before he heard the small, childish sounds of the underwater bubbles again. His eyes popped open, obviously in complete torment, glaring at the girl. She immediately stopped once he looked at her that way and even positioned herself so that she was a little farther above water.

"You would like that wouldn't you?" she said, standing up so he could glimpse everything from her collar bones to the tip of her head. She turned her head like a confused dog when his attention was caught by her. Madara was used to it by now, even the very short time he had known her. The girl was trying to anger him. "You want to watch me wash myself, don't you? You- the noble Uchiha Madara, wants to stare at my naked body and-"

That damned girl was crossing the line already; he had outwardly succeeded in making him angry. "Shut up." he demanded which seemed like the umpteenth time. The girl glimpsed at him through innocent and judging eyes. Madara had mastered so many jutsu and was considered to be one of the best shinobi. He was an Uchiha for fuck sakes, and he had gotten to the Eternal Mangekyou by the age of sixteen years old and had many battles with Senju Hashirama. He was Uchiha Madara, a shinobi feared throughout the land.

Yet this young Uzumaki girl was mocking him like he was a monkey in a cage. She seemed so oblivious; he could kill her in less than a blink of an eye without so much as making a splash. He could murder her in any possible way; the quickest way. He had warned her, he had even stripped her down and violated her in the guiltiest way possible and she was talking to him like they were _equals_. That he should respect _her._

"Why should I?" she asked with confidence. The question almost made Madara completely dumbfounded, that pretty little idiot. "If you have to keep me alive then I can do whatever I want and you can't punish me by killing me. You can't train me to your liking; it just doesn't work that way. The only thing you'll be able to do is torture me."

"You forgot about one thing." Madara assured her. She didn't have to question him on _that_ subject; the girl had already known what he meant. She didn't turn away in terror at his threat and now that she undoubtedly faced him, he could see that the Uzumaki girl had known something. Something that relieved her, the redhead had a different set of emotions in her facial structure and even in her chestnut eyes.

"Your threats don't mean anything." the girl had started laughing. "I may not know about men as much as most women but I do know a thing or two." Madara was about to interrupt this girl but she had said something that sparked his interest. The girl seemed to be covered in a thick blanket of surprise, there was always something at least a little unexpected that she did which made Madara want to learn about it and kill her all the more.

The redhead crept closer and closer to him, going very slowly. All of her actions were confusing to him, she didn't seem _different_ but something turned the tides of what she had known up until now. The Uzumaki girl stopped about six feet or so in front of him and smiled at him. It was a true smile which made Madara all the more upset. She definitely knew something that he didn't and it made him furious.

"There are two types of men in this world: moral men and wicked men." this made Madara think for a moment, but not too much as his thoughts were down casted when the girl continued her little lesson. "Moral men think with their gut and their heart. They would fight for their nation, kill or be killed or skin a rabbit." The Uzumaki sighed. "Wicked men think with their head and their cock. They would slaughter a child, kill for pleasure or butcher a songbird."

She stopped and evaluated the Uchiha. "As much as it pains me to say it, you're half a moral man, Uchiha Madara. You wouldn't have killed me; I am nothing more than a child. Nor would you have done it for pleasure, and you most certainly weren't going to penetrate me, you're too upright. If you were going to rape me, you would have done it already. Though I may not have known it then, I saw it deep inside your eyes before I told you to look away from me while I undressed."

The Uchiha was rendered astounded. He didn't know whether to feel extremely angry that she had known that he wouldn't do it or completely impressed about it. That damned redhead, Madara had an array of confusion whenever she spoke. How is it possible to be treated the way he was by someone such as herself? A child she was, yes, and childish she may be, but she was intelligent in an odd sort of way, she knew what she was doing.

The proud Uchiha sneered. He had slaughtered a child before, but that was when he, too was a child. Madara had taken pleasure from killing people; he remembered the band of outlaws from yesterday, there was great pleasure killing _them_. But he couldn't think of a time when he had killed a songbird, though he wished that he had just so he could prove the Uzumaki wrong. "I am not a good man, and if you think so then you're obviously mental."

The Uzumaki girl had just finished grooming her abnormally long red hair when he had said so, but the only thing that the girl did was chuckle. _Of course_ she did, she thought she knew everything. "I never said you were good. In fact you're probably the most malicious man I know. I only said that you are different than most men in the aspect of where you put your faith."

"Where I put my faith?" Madara repeated. He stared at the redhead like she was a halfwit or crazy at the least. "You think you know everything in the world, don't you?" he gave her a moment to respond but she only looked away in abhorrence and even rolled her eyes. "Well _know_ this, girl, I would break every bone in your body and not think twice about it. I could do it anytime; I possess the power to do so. So I suggest you watch your bothersome little tongue before I rip it out of your mouth."

She had given Madara one last flash of frustration before she turned to leave the hot springs. The girl walked slowly to the shallow part and had walked right out of the water, with her long hair soaking wet a little past her buttocks. Even when she said all of those things about her figuring out the truth about his intentions with the rape, she had still bothered to hide herself away from him. Madara quickly scrubbed the rest of the dirt from himself and followed her back.

When the Uchiha had resurfaced from the depths of the boiling water and the suffocating steam, he had already seen that the girl was dressed in his hakama that he had given her to wear. She was draining the remaining water from her red hair. When he looked at her, she gave him no recognition; it was like her assertive attitude a few minutes ago was fake, because now she looked like she was depressed. This girl was much too moody.

Not caring that the nakedness of his body was exposed he slowly walked over to the pile of clothing and armor and began putting them on. Once he had strained his thick black hair from the water, he put on his first layer of clothing. It took him quite a bit of adjusting, with the water droplets still attached to his skin- it made it hard to put any material on at all, but in any case he managed. Once his first layer was on properly, he began on the next.

The Uchiha had his first two layers of clothing on and once he did, he temporarily ignored his armor and looked at the Uzumaki who was putting her hair into a braid at the side of her head. "I'm going to need my hakama back, girl." Honestly, Madara didn't _need_ it back; he just wanted revenge on the girl for disobeying him and talking to him like she had no respect. She could walk back to the inn naked for all he cared.

"What?" she questioned, as if she thought there was a disturbance in the words that he used for her. She quickly finished her braid and used a left over strand of hair to ensure that her thick red weave would stay carefully and not spill out of the precise hair formation that she had created. The Uzumaki girl then stood up with the hakama on properly this time. It only made her look worse than before; it was baggy and draped over her skin too much.

"I said I'm going to need my attire back, so take that off and give them to me… Now." her face had gotten sour and offended, but she was in the exact place that Madara had wanted her to be. Enough with her babbling all of her illusionary thoughts to him, he had it with her. She would go back to the inn and walk through the lobby wearing nothing but those long red locks that she called natural hair. On the outside, Madara's expression stayed cold as stone, but on the inside he smirked.

"But I'll be naked and I don't have any other clothes." she complained, whining as if she were a small child who had gotten their toy taken away.

"That's quite unfortunate for you, then, isn't it?" Madara folded his arms, waiting impatiently for the girl to take them off and give them back. The sooner they got back to the inn, the sooner he could start devising a true plan, the sooner he would get to kill that annoying excuse for a woman, Uzumaki Mito and that miserable oaf that would be her husband.

"Now that's not very gentleman like." a voice gloomed over, one that didn't belong to himself or the redhead standing in front of him. A shadow made itself apparent walking from the path and directly beside Uzumaki. "My lady is very beautiful and she shouldn't have to expose herself in such a stimulating manner. Here, I've brought you some clothes, anyhow." The figure handed the young girl a thick piece of fabric neatly folded.

Madara had to take a second look, because through the thick misty vapour, he could have sworn that the man who was talking was none other than Senju Hashirama.


End file.
